


The Mirror's Edge

by LadyRhiyana



Series: Etchings [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, BAMF Brienne of Tarth, Established Relationship, F/M, Mirror Universe, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Star Trek References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/pseuds/LadyRhiyana
Summary: She’s wearing a midriff-baring top, a mini-skirt with a fringed officer’s sash, and knee-high heeled boots. Her dagger is sheathed at her side – the razor-sharp blade with which she’d slaughtered the Bloody Mummers on her first away mission; a new security officer, just transferred to theWidow’s Wail.She’d won the captain’s favour that day, and had kept it ever since.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Mirror!Jaime Lannister/Mirror!Brienne of Tarth
Series: Etchings [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140638
Comments: 19
Kudos: 100





	The Mirror's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another riff on the mirror universe, this time an unashamed PWP. Please enjoy!

The summons to the captain’s quarters is waiting for her when she comes off shift. For a moment, Brienne is tempted to ignore it; it had been a long, tiring day filled with internecine disputes, agitators stirring up the crew, and a confrontation with a new officer who resented taking commands from a woman. 

Really, it had been a relief to take her frustration out on the brute.

But something dark and wicked curls inside her as she thinks on beautiful, golden Captain Lannister and his cruel smile. 

Strictly speaking, for a formal audience with the captain she should put on her dress uniform. But she is a hardened veteran, a Commander in the Imperial Fleet. She has been decorated many times over for bravery and ruthlessness in the field. 

She is the first officer of the ISS _Widow’s Wail_ , the iron fisted enforcer of a captain hated and feared throughout the galaxy.

She wears whatever she damn well pleases. 

** 

She enters the captain’s quarters to find him lounging on his bed. 

Brienne lets her eyes roam greedily over him, over the gold sleeveless vest, the officer’s sash and the tight trousers. She’s so distracted that she forgets to salute; after a moment she collects herself and thumps her right fist against her heart. 

“You summoned me, captain,” she says, standing at attention, her eyes staring straight ahead – and not at his lounging golden beauty. 

“And here you are,” the captain says lazily. “Ever the dutiful, obedient subordinate.” 

He gets up from his languid sprawl, prowls closer. “But what’s this?” he asks, prowling around her. “You’re not wearing your dress uniform, Commander Tarth.”

She’s wearing a midriff-baring top, a mini-skirt with a fringed officer’s sash, and knee-high heeled boots. Her dagger is sheathed at her side – the razor-sharp blade with which she’d slaughtered the Bloody Mummers on her first away mission; a new security officer, just transferred to the _Widow’s Wail._

She’d won the captain’s favour that day, and had kept it ever since. 

Slowly, the captain trails his hand across her muscled abdomen. He’s close enough that his golden hair brushes over her skin, close enough to reach out and touch, but that’s not part of the game they’re playing. 

“Connington’s made a formal complaint against you,” he says, his breath hot against her ear. “He claims you attacked him unprovoked, smashed his jaw and shattered his teeth.” 

She bares her teeth. “He deserves everything he got, and more.” 

“Oh?” He steps into her, slides an arm around her waist from behind. “Did he make improper advances?” He pulls her flush against him, and she can feel his cock pressing against her. 

She widens her stance instinctively, her cunt growing slick and hot, but still stands at attention and stares straight ahead, her blood beating thick and hot in her veins. 

“Did he try to take something that belongs to me?” he breathes. His hand slides beneath her skirt, his calloused fingers slipping into her, the heel of his palm pressing hard against her clit. 

She grasps his wrist, her grip tightening in warning. 

“He tried to take something that is only mine to give,” she corrects him. “If I choose to give it to you, that does not make it yours.” 

“No?” He throws his weight against her, knocks her off balance and down to the bed. She rolls beneath him, her long legs and powerful thighs gripping his waist as they fight for dominance, until she finally pins him down and straddles his waist. 

He looks up at her, his face flushed, his eyes gleaming with hunger. 

“No,” she says, rising up on her thighs and tearing open his trousers. He hisses as she takes him in hand, gripping him just on the edge of too-tight; he cups her hips in his strong, wide palms. He’s lithe and beautiful and golden, all his coiled strength laid out for her to take, and take, and take. 

With a slow, curling smile she sinks down on him, taking him deep within her body. She tugs at his hands, entwining her fingers with his, and then she rides him to slow, languid completion. 

** 

Afterwards they lie tangled together, trading lazy, biting kisses and talking idly of their next mission of conquest. One of his hands trails over her black leather boots, traces patterns on her muscled thigh, and toys with the dagger still sheathed at her waist. 

In all the times they’ve played their games, he’s never once tried to take it from her. 

“Connington won’t bother you again,” he murmurs. “I had him spaced from the airlock.”

She cups his cheek in her palm, enjoying the rasp of his golden stubble. “I can fight my own battles,” she says solemnly. “But – thank you, captain.” 

He only smiles, and presses a kiss to her brow. 

Curled up together, they drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
